


Good Things Come In Small Packages

by dixie_drifter



Series: A Little Slice of the Kingdom [5]
Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Animal Abuse, Assholes Who Get What They Deserve, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, not much but its there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 10:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19061167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixie_drifter/pseuds/dixie_drifter
Summary: The Cody-Dolan family gets a little bigger despite Adrian's best efforts. Its all Deran's fault, really.





	Good Things Come In Small Packages

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't really have a timeline in mind for this. And since we really have no idea what's gonna happen this season, I figure it could happen later in S4 or even after.

Deran stretched his arms above his with groan, linking his fingers and pulling them backwards until the resounding crack of his back made him sigh in relief. The bar had been twice as busy than usual lately, and tonight was no exception. Deran had been playing around with a couple of different burgers and sandwiches, and Adrian had convinced him to add them to the bars meager menu. Word had spread mostly through the surfing community and then outward that you could now get some good food with your drinks at The Drop, and people had started piling in after their long days in the water. 

Snatching up the trash bags by the back door, he shoved his way outside to toss them in the dumpster. It was after two in the morning, and Deran was eager to get home. Adrian had been back a couple days, and had finally gotten back on a normal sleep pattern. No more cleaning at odd hours or trying to wear himself out on a punching bag. Deran was a light sleeper, and the steady thumping of Adrian’s wrapped fists against the sandbag could pull him from sleep even from across the house. So, Deran wanted nothing more at the moment then to shower, and crawl in bed beside him.

Loud, rough laughter caught his attention, the kind that only drunks and naturally obnoxious people could make. Deran tossed the trash quickly, letting the dumpster lid slam without a care. He walked a few steps around and saw a group of three men drunk as skunks. One of them had a plastic sand bucket and was swinging it around the way kids do, in awe that they could defy gravity and hold water in place. The other two were egging him on, encouraging him to go faster and faster.

Deran rolled his eyes, and turned to leave when something stopped him. A loud mewl had come from the direction of the drunks, a pitiful sound like a child or animal would make. He scoffed, convinced he was hearing things, and grabbed the door handle, ready to finish closing up, when he heard it again. 

“Well, shit,” he muttered. 

He strolled up to the assholes in irritation, both at them and himself. He just wanted to go home to Adrian and sleep, dammit!

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snapped at them.

The guy with bucket stopped swinging and turned. “Who the hell are you?”

He stepped toward Deran, tossing the bucket carelessly aside. When it hit the ground, there was another mewl, louder now that Deran was in closer proximity, and a small black kitten rolled out. Its fur was dirty and matted, and its hip bones poked out from under the dull black coat. It struggled aimlessly to stand from where it lay pathetically on the ground. 

Deran made a sound of disgust. “Are you fucking kidding me? This is your idea of fun?” He waved a hand in the direction of the street. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I crack your head open and leave you dizzy on the ground. See how you like it.”

“Hey, man, this doesn’t concern you.”

Drunk number two stepped forward. “We’re just having a little fun with it. Figured we’d do the little bastard a favor and put it out of its misery. Just thought we’d have a little fun with it first.”

Deran blocked the first guy when he made a move toward the little creature. He shoved him hard back into his buddy’s grip.

“Fun’s over. Now, like I said, get the fuck out of here.”

“I don’t think so.”

While the first two guys seemed content to do just that, the third guy was looking for a fight. He was shorter than his friends, bigger in the shoulders, and had he been sober, he might have offered something of a challenge. As it was, Deran was sober, faster, pissed, and already supposed to be in bed, for fuck’s sake.

When the guy swung, Deran side stepped, kicking the man’s knee when he stumbled passed. He went down hard, curling around his abused leg, and Deran gave his ribs a good hard kick just for the hell of it. He turned to the other guys, and before their drunk minds really registered what had happened, Deran stepped up to the first one and slammed his fist in his face. The man when down like bag of rocks. Deran grabbed the last guy by his wrinkled button up and backed him none to gently against the opposite side of the alley.

“Take your dumbass buddies, and get the hell out of here or I’ll start breaking bones.”

The guy struggled uselessly against Deran’s hold. “Let go of me! You’re crazy, asshole!”

Deran pulled the guy toward him and forced him back, over and over, letting his head crack against the dirty brick. Deran shifted and unceremoniously tossed him on top of his friends.

The one he had punched had made it to his feet and was trying and failing to staunch the blood flowing from his no doubt broken nose. The fight had left him quickly in the face of true violence, and he grabbed the man Deran had thrown across the alley when he made move to try Deran again. Together, the grabbed up their fallen comrade and tripped over the street.

Deran looked over at the bucket and saw the little cat gone. With a groan, he shook out his hand and made toward the bar. Asshole had a face like a cinder block. 

He stopped when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. Under the back light, weaving on unsteady feet, the kitten struggled to walk. Deran moved to it without really thinking about it. The little thing made no move to run from him, whether because it couldn’t or because of a foolishly trusting nature that had already gotten it in trouble once tonight.

Picking it up by the scruff of its neck, Deran lifted it up to his face. A pair of mismatched eyes stared back him above a pale pink nose. Both features stood out against the black fur even in the low lighting. 

“You’re a pathetic little thing, aren’t you?”

It meowed, and made an attempt to bat at his face from where it hung from his fingers.

Deran shook his head. “Okay, look,” he said, tucking it in the crook of his arm. “I’ve got some scraps you can have, but then its back out in the world, alright? Alright.”

Deran nodded to himself, mind already made up. He locked the backdoor behind him and strode toward the kitchen. Maybe a little something to eat would give the little thing a fighting chance.

 

Adrian came awake slowly, pressing his face deeper into his pillow. Or Deran’s pillow, actually. The sharp red numbers on the clock, which sat on Deran’s nightstand while his own held the phone chargers, told him it was after three, and hours before he needed to be awake. He realized quickly what had woken him. He had rolled over to Deran’s side, aiming to wrap around him. The cool morning air from the open window in the bathroom had chilled him, and Deran put off heat like a furnace. Tucking himself behind Deran kept him warm, and as a plus, usually led to a leisurely morning fuck. 

With a groan, he threw back the covers, grateful he had slipped into a pair of Deran’s sweatpants last night after his shower. A quick look out of the window showed the Scout parked in its usual spot, which meant Deran was home. Adrian sighed in relief. Even on nights he closed the bar, Deran had made it a habit to be home a certain time unless he and his brothers were pulling a job. It was unusual for either of them to be in bed alone these days, when Adrian was home from the tour at least, since they had moved in together. 

He snagged a hoodie-- also Deran’s-- from one of the hooks on the back of their bedroom door and slipped on as he headed toward the stairs. When he got to the bottom, he fumbled with the zipper to close it over his chest. No point trying while moving. In his bleary state, he more likely would have ended in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

The light was on in the kitchen, so Adrian decided to start his search in the most obvious place first. A late night snack-- of any variety-- would be just the thing. As he got closer, he could hear the sound of water being splashed, and Deran’s voice speaking in low tones, and oddly, a hissing noise. Adrian frowned. He wondered if Craig had shown up sometime. It would be highly unusual since he had a place of his own, too. Unless there was surfing to be had that day, Craig usually waited for the sun to be up before he crashed through the door. Though he tended to make up for his many intrusions by washing dishes, and tidying up as he went.

Adrian turned the corner, and stopped in his tracks. Instead of a Cody brother, he found Deran standing at the sink, shirtless, holding a wriggling black blob. It was a very wet, very unhappy cat. A kitten. The saddest sound Adrian had ever heard came from its little throat as vicious looking claws sank deeper into the skin of Deran’s hands.

“Ow! Watch it, you little shit!”

Adrian was baffled. 

“Deran, what the hell?”

Deran’s head snapped towards him. He blinked in surprise, before looking Adrian up and down. Those ridiculous blue eyes went soft, and Adrian let an amused smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Deran loved it when Adrian wore his clothes. His eyes flicked back up to Adrian’s and he gave a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“Didn’t mean to wake you up. I tried to be quiet. But I can’t say the same for Oscar here.”

Adrian pressed himself against Deran’s back. He hummed low in the back of this throat as he looked at he soggy creature in Deran’s hands. 

“What’cha got there, D?”

“The fuck does it look like, genius?”

Adrian nipped at Deran’s ear, satisfied at the catch in Deran's breath. He studied the scene in front of him. The sink had been drained, but there was still suds remaining. The bottle of Dawn Deran had used as kitten shampoo was on its side on the counter, a small puddle of thick blue liquid forming beneath the cap. Deran was using the hose to rinse the remaining soap bubbles from the angry ball of fur in his hands.

He slid his hands up Deran’s back, feeling Deran arch back into his touch, feeling the muscle shift under warm, soft skin. Adrian was completely unable to stop himself from pushing his thumbs into the yellowing, nearly healed marks he’d put on either side of Deran’s spine, causing another hitch in Deran's breathing. He'd put those marks there alomst as soon as he'd first stepped through the front door just days ago. He had barely given Deran enough time to drop the bags he’d carried from the car before he’d pressed him face first against the door, covering Deran’s lean body with Adrian’s own slightly bigger one. 

Sliding his hands down Deran’s biceps, he watched as the kitten knawed uselessly on Deran's hand, struggling to escape the water raining down on it.

Adrian marveled at how gently Deran handled the fragile thing. He knew what kind of violence those very hands could cause, and though he knew never again would that violence be directed at him, he would never forget. He also knew that very gentleness the kitten was being subjected to himself. And while these were hands that would leave finger shaped bruises on his thighs and hips and calves, they also traced words of love that had yet to be spoken into the freckled skin of his back, the soft skin of his inner arm, or the back of his neck above his collar at any given time.

Adrian lightly gripped the back of Deran’s neck, thumbing at the tense muscles there. He knew Deran’s night had been busy, though he had refused Adrian’s offer of help, Adrian still felt a tug of guilt that he hadn’t pushed the matter harder. He slid his fingers into Deran’s hair, massaging his skull, sliding them back down to his neck, before repeating the motion. Deran leaned into him as he slid the hose back into place and lifted the kitten to double check for soap.

Adrian shook his head.

“Where on earth did you find that thing?”

The kitten was small and impossibly bony. It was dwarfed by the hands that cupped it, though if the growls that came from its throat were to be believed, the kitten itself didn’t realize how small it was. 

Adrian straightened.

“Wait. Go back. Oscar? Really, Deran, you named it?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Just-- I mean, Oscar?”

“Well, I found her near the dumpster behind the bar. Some drunk assholes had her in a bucket swinging her around. She could barely walk without falling over. I figure she was living there, eating what scraps she could.” 

“What kind of sick freak does that to a small, helpless animal? Please tell me those dicks are the ones that are having trouble walking on their own.”

“Oh, yeah. All three of them.”

“Three?” Adrian raised a brow. “I’m impressed. Too bad you have a handful of kitten right now, or I’d show you how impressed I am.”

Deran turned. “Hold on to that thought, yeah? Almost done here,” he grinned. Deran jerked his chin to the left. “Hand me that towel.”

Adrian snagged the towel that had been looped through the refrigerator handle and held it up. 

He raised a brow. “Please and thank you.”

Deran rolled his eyes. “Please, hand me the towel.” 

Adrian tossed it across the room. Deran continued.

“So, I figured, Oscar fit. You know, like Oscar the Grouch.”

“From Sesame Street?”

“Used to watch it as kids, remember?”

Deran caught Adrian’s grin out of the corner of his eye. He scowled. He had wrapped the kitten up in the dish towel, and was rubbing circles around her little body, getting what excess water he could off her. 

“Look, I always liked that grouchy bastard, okay? Thought he had the right idea because people suck.”

“Says the man who robs people of their hard earned money.” Adrian walked up to Deran’s side, he scratched the now purring kitten on her head grinning wider as he leaned over Deran’s shoulder. “You know, I don’t think you understood what Sesame Street was trying to teach you.”

Deran snorted. “You’re not really one to talk. Even before your, thankfully brief, venture into drug smuggling. Sealed or not, that juvie record still exists.”

Adrian made a sound of agreement. “Yeah, yeah. So, what exactly do you plan on doing with her?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, get her dried off best you can. I’ll step out and get some sand in one of those flat boxes we still have. She can stay in the bathroom down here tonight. Its too late to anything now, and you’re exhausted, Deran. Tomorrow we’ll take her to a shelter or something. She’s already got a name, and she’s pretty fucking cute, so it shouldn’t be that hard to find her a home, right?”

Adrian started to leave, but turned back when Deran hadn’t answered him. 

“D?”

Deran’s head whipped toward him. “Right. Yeah, of course. Sorry, I zoned out.”

Adrian jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna get that sand.”

Adrian made quick work getting some sand, and was locking the front door behind him when he realized how quiet the house had gotten. Trying and failing to smother a yawn, he looked around the corner at the bathroom to see the door open and the light off. Frowning, he moved into the living room and stopped short at the sight that greeted him. Deran was sprawled on the couch, sound asleep with a now dry, perfectly happy kitten curled up against his neck. 

“Oh, hell.”

It was a disturbingly adorable scene. Adorable in that it made Adrian itch for his phone to snap a picture for proof. Disturbing because the kitten looked a little too at home sleeping on Adrian’s own particularly favorite place to sleep. He'd spent more nights than ever lately with his face buried against Deran's neck. It was a perfect fit.

Rather than disturb his sleeping boyfriend, Adrian went through the house turning off what lights that didn’t belong on before returning to the living room. He moved over Deran, stretching out on his side between him and the back of the couch. He made a mental note to poke at Deran about how right he’d been about getting the couch with the wider seating. The way they both fit comfortably was definitely worth the trip to Pottery Barn. 

Deran hummed in his sleep turning on his side to face Adrian, his arm sliding over Adrian possessively and tangling their legs. The kitten slid from her perch with a disgruntled mewl, but quickly fell back asleep spread out on her belly between them, front and back legs stretched out like she owned the place.

Adrian stroked her soft head a few times before draping his own arm across Deran, wrapping it around his back. He fell asleep with the vague thought in his head that it wasn’t such a bad feeling, really, the soft rumble of Oscar’s purrs against his chest and Deran’s warm breath against his collar bone.


End file.
